


Kindred Spirits

by perniciousLizard



Series: Fired Up and Bone Weary [21]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drinking, Family Drama, Gen, Grillby's Family - Freeform, Kid Angst, M/M, Original Character(s), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perniciousLizard/pseuds/perniciousLizard
Summary: This is a short scene taken out of "What Goes Around."  Grillby and his brother go drinking and reminisce.  Grillby unloads a few more of his worries.





	

One thing that Grillby and his brother agreed on was that they did not want to drink any more human beer.  There were two bars for monsters in the city, and Grillby owned one of them.  The other one was for mouse-sized monsters.  Rather than just go home or back to the hotel, they went to Grillby's.  

The building was empty.  Grillby pulled a few bottles out and they sat down at the bar.  

“So, married, huh?” Braise asked.  

“We’ve been engaged for a while.  I was going to mention it earlier.”  

He watched his brother take a drink, and then followed suit.  

“Hope yours goes better than mine did,” Braise said.  

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck,” Grillby said.  

He shrugged.  "I’ve got other stuff to deal with now.“

Before Grillby knew it, they had finished off one of the bottles.  His brother had somehow eaten up an hour complaining about his ex and gushing about his kid.  They opened up the second one.  

The room started to spin gently around him.  Small sparks flew off of Grillby.  One landed on the napkins set out at the end of the bar, and started to sink in. 

"No,” Grillby told the napkins.  They stopped burning.  They’d have to wait until he was a lot more drunk before he’d let them get away with that nonsense.  

“See, you’re not the only one with problems,” Braise was saying.  His voice was a little distant.  "Mom’s sight’s going, right?  And our little sister, who knows what’s going on with her at school?  She just says she’s doing fine and won’t tell us anything.  Kind of like you.“

"Everyone’s proud she got in that school,” Grillby said.  "If something’s wrong, she can’t say anything." 

"She’s talking to you?”

“Just a guess.”  He shrugged.

“No one’s disowning her if she has to leave.”  

“It’d be a pain.  If she fixes what’s wrong, or just deals with it, she only has problems in that part of her life, and not everywhere.  Something like this was going to happen from the start.  It’s too much pressure on her.”  

“You ever think about giving that opinion when it might’ve been good for something?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say,” Grillby said.  "Everyone does what they want."

"I guess.”  He shook his head, frustrated.  

“Maybe she’s changed her mind about what she wants to do.  Most people change their minds about that at some point.”

Braise laughed. “Yeah, sure.  From the guy who used to pick up garbage off the ground, cook it, and make me eat it.”  

“I was a toddler and you ate that garbage voluntarily.”  

“You really talked it up!”  

Grillby laughed.  "I don’t know why I’m listening to someone who I’ve seen eat garbage.“

"Huh?  So how does it work with Sans, then?  I’ve seen that guy pick french fries out of the dirt.  He looked right at me and said ‘twenty minute rule.’”  

“I never said I listen to Sans.”  

“Hey, no wonder it’s going so well.”  

Grillby thought that was funnier than he normally would have.  He poured himself another drink.  

He lost track of how much time was passing.  His brother tried to make him look at what felt like an infinite number of pictures of his kid that he had stored on his phone.  "Wait,“ he kept saying, "Wait, I’ll just send 'em to you.”  Then he would remember that Grillby had to look at the next six.

Then, out of nowhere, Braise started apologizing.  He put his phone away.  He said he shouldn’t be pushing all this kid stuff on him.

Grillby’s head was spinning.  "I don’t…I don’t care.“  Did he?  "I’m not jealous?  I don’t even think…”  He pushed the bottle away.  He’d had too much.  He couldn’t pull himself together.  "It’s not real.  Those kids, they aren’t real.  The ones I thought I’d have.  They don’t…I’m not…I’m not losing sleep over them."

"Okay.”

Everyone got it completely wrong.  Grillby was sad about the circumstances, sure, but now that the immediate shock had passed, it was the kind of sadness that attached itself to all those chances in life that inevitably have to pass by.  

“He’s real.”  He was struck with a sudden need for someone to understand the actual problem, and not what they decided it was.  "I’m not…I’m not getting this right.“

"Sans?  Yeah, I mean, he’s weird, but I don’t think I imagined him.”  

“He’s more real than those kids.  His…problems.  Are more real.  God, I have no idea what I’m doing, when he’s sick.  I can’t do anything.”

Braise took off his glasses and rubbed them clean with the edge of his shirt.  "You’re a doctor now?  No one expects that."

"I have to be there.  I’m going to be there, when things get bad.  And they _will_. Even if we don’t have children…it’s just waiting.  His brother wants to be a mom.  Or his friend will adopt again and she’ll need help.  It’s…it’s going to happen.  I don’t know how to prepare for this.”

“What are you talking about?”  Braise put his glasses back on.  His form was fuzzy around the edges, and he was visibly struggling to focus on his brother.  

There was a to-do list on Papyrus’ bedroom wall.  It was about a mile long, but up near the top, it read “BE A MOM!  BE THE BEST MOM!!”  Grillby had seen it and wondered, idly, what they would do if Papyrus suddenly had a child.  They would probably change Papyrus’ office into another bedroom.  

Then there would be a child running around the house.  Around Sans.  Would that end up being _any_ different, for him, than if he and Grillby had decided to adopt a child?  

Fumbling with his words, he struggled to explain himself.  He remembered a conversation, from right after he had seen the list on Papyrus' wall.  

_“Sans, what will you do if Papyrus adopts?”_

_“adopts what?  that’s a broad question.  is bro adopting a kitten?  a constitution?  a highway?  that last one sounds like him.”_

_“Sans.”_

_“i don’t think he can adopt me, legally speaking, but i guess i could look into it if he’s set on it.”  He chuckled.  "he’s always wanted to be a mom."_

_”_ Sans _.“_

_He relented, a little.  "i dunno.  there’s always a lot of paperwork for that stuff, and he hates it.  if a bedtime story doesn’t work, filling out forms is a great way to put paps down for a nap.”  He shrugged. “i’d probably do some of that.”_

_Grillby had gotten quiet.  He flickered, uneasy._

_“what?”_

_“…how would that be different?  If your brother has a child?  Wouldn’t that cause you the same problem?”_

_“uh.” Sans shrugged.  "maybe, yeah.  guess i’m boned then.“  He winked.  "eh, i’ll deal with it if it comes up.”_

_“Couldn’t you ask him…not to?”_

_“nah. that’s the last thing i’d do.”_

_“But…”_

_“sorry.” He shrugged.  "pretty unfair, right?"_

_"Yes.”_

_“if you’re that into the kid idea, sorry, i’m really not the guy for you.”_

_“That’s…not what’s unfair.”_

Grillby was a little tired of constantly being misunderstood.  

“I don’t know what to do when he’s sick,” Grillby said.  

Braise patted at Grillby’s arm.  He didn't seem to know what to say.  He shook the last drops out of his glass, into his mouth.  

“He’ll keep getting sick, and I’ll keep not knowing what to do.  Even when I know…I know _exactly_ what’s going to hurt him, I can’t do anything!”

“That’s pretty heavy,” Braise said, mumbling.  "If it helps, I never know anything about anything."

"…it’s true and it does help."  Grillby felt ill, talking about this.  

"Thanks. Hey, Grillby, I have no idea what this is about, but it sounds pretty messed up.  I don’t think anyone’d know what to do right away. You’re not a doctor, you said, right?  Any kind of doctor.”  

“I’m not a doctor.”  

“Anyone who said you should know what to do is an asshole.”  

“I’m the only one saying anything like that.”

“Point stands.”  

“…thanks.”

They tried to discuss it for a little while, not getting anywhere, until Braise stood up and walked over to the jukebox.  He held onto the edge of the bar to keep his balance.  He said he had just thought of a song that reminded him of Grillby’s situation.  When the music started to play, Grillby was baffled, until Braise admitted he had accidentally selected the wrong song.  

“Maybe I should hold off.  Until I can push a friggin button right,” Braise said.  

“…you don’t have to…”  

His brother was trying to help.  He might be better at it sober, but Grillby appreciated the drunken sincerity of his attempt.  

“Yeah, but this sucks,” Braise said.  "For you.“  

”…yes."  He patted his brother on his back.  

"Don’t comfort _me_ , you jackass.”  

Grillby laughed.  Maybe he wasn’t the only person in his family to change in the last fifteen years.  It wasn't very often that Grillby left a conversation with the sense that he had been understood.  

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it. It's time to write a wedding.


End file.
